Doodles
by Makai'sFavoriteKitsune
Summary: To pass the time by, Renji chose to do what?


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or anything related or from it. All copyrights belong to Noriaki 'Tite' Kubo. I only own the plot.

**Pairings**: ByaRen

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** To pass the time by, Renji chose to do what?

November 25, 2011; Bete-ed by Kahewei

**Doodles**

Renji propped his head up on his left hand while his right doddled absentmindedly on the sheet before him. Glancing up over at Byakuya, he sighed.

Kuchiki-taicho just kept working diligently, fingers flying away and demolishing his stack of paperwork bit by bit.

He sighed. Loudly.

Renji gazed upon his doodles, and proceeded to cross them out. He had to toss that out later, as his eyes narrowed at the poor quality. Searching around for a pencil, he found one hidden beneath a bundle of old files, a couple of melted rubber bands, and a squishy, squashy green ball. He looked out through the corner of his eyes, and pulled out a well-worn art book that was black with a strong metal spiral clipping the heavy paper together.

He flipped it out, and ran a hand over the blank, white page. Crisp and new, he felt the roughness and smoothness of the paper; his sensitive fingers recognizing and enjoying the familiar and unfamiliar sensation—no two sheets had the same feel.

Renji shoved the pencil in the slot of a nifty, pencil sharper Rukia had gotten for him from an art store in the Human world. It was quick, neat, and it sharpened his pencil to a fine point. He heard a crinkle of paper, and watched Byakuya again.

Taicho had just happened to wrinkle the sheet he was working on. Renji rolled his eyes. Judging by the faint pinch in between the noble's nose, he could very well guess what it was. He didn't quite understand why Byakuya insisted on doing the paperwork for his clan when it was their day off. It was _like_ he couldn't pass it on to another family member or something.

_And, __that __one __goes __in __the __trash_ thought Renji as Byakuya folded and set aside a paper.

He grabbed a scrap paper and placed it next to his notebook. Renji tested the pencil by scratching a few strokes upon the marked-up sheet full of different colored inks and varying lines and curves. Satisfied with proper shape and lines, he dragged his notebook closer to him, and rested his right hand upon it.

Renji glanced up at Byakuya again, and watched carefully for the next couple of moments. _There!_ That was it. That was what he wanted to capture.

His hand moved across the paper with faint lines sprawling across in different directions. He glanced up every now and then, checking for accuracy, as he sketched out the proper measurements and guidelines.

And, slowly, Renji lost himself in sketching, and refining his rough gray marks; as he slowly shaped a two-dimensional figure.

He didn't notice the passage of time, or even when a black-haired figure looked over at his figure, taking in the fluid movements of his hand and the fierce appearance of concentration. Gray eyes watched sharp canines biting into a lower lip, flushing red with blood and the occasional pauses where the artist's hand set down the pencil and was shaken briefly to alleviate cramps, before diving back into the drawing with gusto. Then, those same pair of eyes turned back to neat little lines of black characters detailing the current political dispute among the clan, about a certain rumor involving a redhead and a clan leader, with a faint smile.

Grinning, Renji glanced up at the noble, and carefully noted any mistakes. Pleased there were none; he begun erasing the stray lines and reference marks, and carefully darkening certain contours, detailing its fine shape. One of his hand dove into a drawer and pulled up a kneaded eraser, as Renji started to painstakingly do the tedious shading.

A stray piece of hair felled in front of him, and he pushed it back with a hand streaking a mark of gray against his cheek and white headband. A pause in the movement of one paper-involved person wasn't caught, nor was the slight mirth in mercury-filled orbs that took in the soft sight of that gray smudge.

Renji carefully rubbed his finger against a group of lines, deftly bringing the softness of the shadow outwards. He darkened, and re-darkened certain areas again. He lifted his head up and rotated, sighing in pleasure after a soft crack of tension was released. Leaning back in his chair, Renji carefully studied the figure wrapped in a white captain's haori. His gaze flitted up toward those eyes, noting the silent determination, and the play of lights flickering. Renji could watch those eyes forever, because it was Byakuya's eyes that told him what Byakuya really felt. The lights that dally back and forth, the crinkles and the crow's feet that changed the look in Byakuya's face; it was those subtle movements that only he could see.

And, it was why, Renji had to get it just perfect.

He gazed down at his piece, and grabbed his headband, dipping it into his cold tea. He just had to finish to last part, and Byakuya's stacks of paperwork were almost done. Renji wiped the wet handkerchief against the side of his right hand, staining it silver. It wouldn't do to mess up the drawing with smudges. He placed a clean sheet under his hand, and drew in the prickles of light, and the formation of a perfectly formed pupil.

Pencil still in grip, with pencil and eraser shavings around the drawing, Renji looked down at his masterpiece. He smiled, and carefully signed and dated it.

He hesitated. Then, in bold strokes, he titled it, "My Passion."

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he nearly yelped as Byakuya murmured, "My Passion, Renji? I would hardly call my person a passion."

"B-byakuya," said Renji breathily as his cheeks heated up.

"So, this is what you have chosen to pass the time." He lifted up the notebook, and turned it in different angles.

"Well, I don't have any paperwork," Renji said defiantly, while his hands gently trembled with tension. "This is supposed to be our day off, you know, and you're just doing more work."

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. "I did not mean it in a negative manner, Renji. I find myself rather flattered."

Placing the artwork down on the desk, Byakuya took a hold of a hand, and pressed a gentle kiss to it. "I merely find it ironic; you would label it with such a title. When you know very well, I am not a passion…when you are my passion."

"_Che_. Why can't we both be each other passion?" Renji stepped closer to the noble. "Because you are my passion."

"Very well, Renji," Byakuya tilted his head in reconciliation, and reached up with a hand, and rubbed off the pencil marking on Renji's right cheek. "You have gotten more talented. Perhaps, you will do a family portrait one day."

"Family portrait?" mused Renji as he leaned down to brush a kiss over soft lips.

"Hmm, family portrait," confirmed Byakuya. "Rukia. You. And me."

Renji's eyes soften. "A family portrait. Family." He took Byakuya into his arms, and held him gently. "Guess, I'm not a stray dog, anymore."


End file.
